


Shoring up your Sins

by Pakeha



Series: Kingdom by the Sea [7]
Category: Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Kid Fic, M/M, Octo!Loki, mention of MPREG
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-31
Updated: 2015-02-10
Packaged: 2017-11-23 02:14:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/616951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pakeha/pseuds/Pakeha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One day The Merking comes to Asgard, and he is greedy for a son who will never again come when he is called.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pull

Gudrun was six months old the day Loki felt the tides shift. She was ruddy and giggly and plump, newly weened and accustomed to spending her nights in a cradle in the corner of Thor’s bedroom. She was as comforted when being held in the early hours by the golden heir to the throne of Asgard as she was when falling asleep in Loki’s grasp in the low of evening. 

Loki roused in the dark of a witching hour and moved through the room with a pointed silence, giving no glance to the cooling gap on his side of the bed. He gathered no satchel, drew on neither trousers nor boots. Clad only in a green cloak and one of Thor’s large tunics he let his feet carry him to his daughter’s crib. 

If he had been pressed, Loki would have refused to acknowledge the slight tremor that set in his arm as he reached to stroke his daughter’s cheek. Fortunately there was no one there to bear witness. Every soul in the palace slept (of this Loki was certain). 

The cherry wood of her bed creaked as he held tight, weight heavy behind his wrist. A summer wind, a whisper through the curtains, caught Loki’s hair and dragged it across his cheeks. He rubbed his chin against his shoulder before settling, his eyes fixed on the little motions of her chest. 

“You are to be great.” He rasped tongue clicking on the ‘t,’ gaze shifting to the flutter of her closed eyelids. Her dreams pushed her little hands into even littler fists. She kicked once, her lips turning into a pout. Loki’s eyes softened as he added “This is a certainty. Never doubt it.” 

Even in her sleep she turned her cheek into the comfort of his touch. His fingers twitched then settled against her skin, recalling the shape of her in his hands. Half a year old and she still felt so tiny, swallowed up in the curve of Thor’s big hands, hardly a weight in Loki’s arms. He bit his tongue and gripped the bar of her crib tighter. 

“Happy half-birthday.” He managed to whisper, a twist to his lips. “I was once certain you would be dead before this day. Now look at you.” Stroking one tiny, fuzzy brow with his thumb, he smiled. 

“Still alive.” 

Jerkily he shifted his weight forward, leaning down over the bar, but he halted inches away and swallowed hard. He drew himself upright, and forced his fingers to uncurl from the edge of her cradle. 

His throat was thick like choking, his teeth were tightly clenched. “Be good for Thor, my daughter.” His hand withdrew from her head, fingers pulling themselves into a fist. “He will keep you safe.” 

Loki swallowed once. 

Then he went away.


	2. Swell

When Thor woke it was with the first rays of morning, the sun needling through his eyelids and drawing him from sleep. His reach was casual as he stretched his legs out, searching for Loki’s neighboring form. His feet found nothing but cold covers. Turning on his side with a sigh, his eyes opened to the emptiness of his bed. White sheets were turned blue in his shadow as he sat up, rubbing a hand over his face. 

These days the room felt so lifeless when he was alone.

Grumbling he snatched Loki’s pillow into his arms and flopped with his prize back onto the bed. A pout pulled at his lips as he shoved his nose into the linen and breathed deep, wondering to which corner of the palace his mercreature had dragged himself off to so early in the day. 

The drapes over his window lolled in a gust of wind, punching the blue-green flavors of summer into the room and easing a smile back onto his lips. 

He marveled at how awake he felt now following the pressing exhaustion which had crept up on him the night previous. It had been an unexpected tiredness, one which had followed an admittedly long day of training, but not any longer than usual. After dinner he’d all but fallen into their bed, arms twining around his lover, a kiss goodnight all he could muster before he’d been overcome by sleep. Loki’s eyes had been hooded and watchful, for once uncomplaining of Thor’s tight grasp. Thor could only hope it was a sign that Loki was becoming more comfortable with physical affection. He chose to believe that soon the man would cease to grumble at a kiss on the cheek or a held hand. Relaxing his hold on the pillow, one of his big hands reached up to scratch at his head, tangled strands of hair catching at sleep stiff fingers. 

With a sigh, Thor banished his sulk and considered dressing and going off for breakfast and a game of ‘find Loki.‘ His only duties were for later in the day, leaving him an empty morning to dedicate to the hunt.

Drawing a plan of the palace up in his mind he began to consider Loki’s most frequent haunts before a sound killed his musings. 

A gurgling complaint, issued from the direction of Gudrun’s crib. 

His heart stalled. Then it began thudding too hard against his ribs. In an instant the prince was on his feet and at Gudrun’s side, reaching out to gather the babe into his arms, shushing her gently. 

“What are you still doing here?” He asked her, watching as she grabbed for a fistful of his hair. Big gold eyes stared back, accusing, nonsense syllables on her lips and Thor relaxed a touch, his chest renewing the ache he’d grown accustomed to in the past half a year. Still his breath hitched as his heartbeat wound down to a normal pace, adrenaline surging at the thought of Gudrun unprotected. There was a wrongness to it that made his skin crawl.

“Do you know where he has gone?” Gudrun fell quiet in order to put her handful of Thor’s hair to her mouth and chew on it. Thor quirked his lips to the side in half of a frown and stroked her head. He focused on steadying his breathing. 

Gudrun sneezed.

Thor let his frown become a small smile and he pressed a quick kiss her brow. “Shall we seek him after a bit of breakfast?” He asked after a moment. “The strawberries in the kitchen gardens are in their second harvest.”

Of course Gudrun said nothing but Thor nodded for the both of them, putting the day to motion. He bounced her as he walked in order to earn himself a giggle, taking her to his bed and arranging his and Loki’s pillows so he could set her on the mattress without any risk of her rolling off the edge. He liberated his hair and tugged on the amber beads around her neck to remind her she still had something to occupy her time. Then he set about making himself presentable. 

Once dressed and hastily groomed, Thor pulled out the top drawer of his dresser: the one which had been dedicated to the infant gowns mother had commissioned for Gudrun. For a moment he hesitated, knowing Loki preferred to dress her simply, but he could not restrain himself long. He pulled out green silk gown with red embroidery and eyed it with a frown before deciding surely it must be the right size for her, or at least near enough. The drawer shut with a snap.

Gudrun didn’t seem to mind certainly as he arranged her limbs in the garment. The moment she was in the dress she took to picking at the hem in a determined fascination while gnawing absently at the fingers of her free hand. Proud of himself, Thor bundled her up in his arms to take her to the dining hall, eager to get to the strawberries.

He breezed out of his chambers and into the hall, where he found an intense sort of quiet in the halls. A quiet which made him frowned. His usual determined pace slowed as he moved down the corridor. 

Windows were flung wide for the season, the shush and sputter of high tide chasing its way up the cliffs, sounding faintly through the vaulted space. Sunlight, thin but bright, cut patterns through shadow on the marble floors, over the tapestries, leading Thor’s eyes to the slouched figure of a guard.

His frown deepened, his grip on Gudrun going tighter.

“Solider!” His bark echoed, the word beating the guard awake. The man jerked forward, throwing himself to attention. 

“Y-your majesty.” He stammered his cheeks flushed. He couldn’t have been much more than twenty-five, red hair and beard mussed from his slouch against the wall, his helmet askew.

“Are your drunk?” Thor growled and the guard’s eyes grew huge.

“No milord, I would never-” The guard swallowed hard, his face draining of colour. “Milord, I-”

A storm set on Thor’s brow, his eyes thunderous. “Without vigilance any number of Asgard’s enemies could scale the distance to this hall and enter unimpeded. The king could have been killed!” Gudrun made an unhappy noise against his shoulder, the noise only making Thor more furious. “Your name, soldier!” He snapped.

The man swallowed several times before he was able to reply. “Siggurson, your majesty.”

Thor spat on the floor. “Guard Siggurson, a replacement will be sent at once and repercussions will be dealt. Do not move from this post until another guard has arrived. For your sake I hope you manage to remain _alert_.”

The man, looking even younger in his cowering, swallowed again and ducked his head low in a bow. “Yes, your majesty.”

With the guard humiliated, Thor turned his back on him and tried to relax the line of his shoulders. It did happen on occasion that soldiers on watch were so disgraced, but Thor could not recall it ever happening to a guard in the halls of the royal quarters. It disturbed him, and he patted Gudrun’s back as much for his own comfort as hers when she fussed again, but the effort was for naught. Another commotion had arisen at the end of the hall near the chambers of his father and mother. His pace quickened as he made his way towards the king, who appeared to be gesturing violently at another guard. 

“ -negligence!” Odin’s voice boomed. “I should strike you down where you stand!” 

This guard was far more seasoned, a face Thor had become quite familiar with over the years, and his stomach knotted unpleasantly.

“What has happened?” he asked when he drew close, but his father could barely answer in his fury.

“Negligence!” He managed to repeat the word at length. “Dereliction of duty!”

He whirled at Thor with a disbelieving fury. “Fourteen years this man has served me faithfully, and now he falls asleep at his post!” Then he whirled back to the guard, tirade continuing.

Thor started as an owl screeched from outside the window, flapping into sight as it seemed to struggle to keep itself aloft. 

“Father-” Thor began, eyes fixed on the bird.

The King ignored him. “I will not stand for this!” He shouted at the guard, face close enough to bite, but Thor stepped forward to signal his attention.

“Father,” He said again, firmer. “This man is not the only one.”

A stillness settled over Odin. He turned slowly, and for a long moment he regarded his son in silence. 

“Explain yourself.”

Thor swallowed. “The guard posted outside my own quarters was also asleep at his post when I exited my rooms this morning. I was on my way now to report him to-”

The low wail of Heimdall’s watch shattered the conversation. Thor held Gudrun closer as he looked again towards the window, listening to the sequence of tones. A flock of starlings took to flight from a tree just outside, the startled cries bright against the blood-red, iron scowl of the horn.

“Someone comes by sea.” Thor murmured, brows drawing together.

The one eyed king took a hold of the guard’s shoulder and propelled him back to his spot along the wall. He slammed him into the stone and held him there, snarling. “If you value your life, you will _stay awake_ until someone comes to relieve you!” 

Then all his attention snapped to his son. “They don’t come _by_ sea-” he growled, beginning his stalk towards the throne room. “They come _from_ it! Give the child to your mother. If I am to defend your lover before his people you are damned well going stand with me.”

Vibrations crawled over the marble floors. The window panes shivered. 

Thor frowned and adjusted his hold on Gudrun as he took a step in the direction his father headed, then stopped. Unburdened his father had no such hesitation, and he rounded the corner at the end of the hall with a billow of golden robes. 

Something heavy settled in the pit of Thor’s gut as his eyes turned back to the window, something like dread that ate at him with a suspicious and sickening crawl. 

Throughout the palace sleepiness was replaced with motion, every hallway turning over into wakefulness. Thor could hear doors banging opened in distant halls, the clatter of armor as guards set themselves to rights. Behind him his parent’s chamber door swung open, his mother emerging.

“What comes, Thor?” The queen’s hands were quick over her hair as she set sapphire pins in place, her movements faltering when her eyes landed on the baby in Thor’s arms. 

“The Mere.” The prince replied, peeling Gudrun’s little fists from where they’d tethered to his tunic, ignoring the wail it produced. “I must follow father, would you take her, please.”

Frigga tucked her last two pins into the purse at her waist and took the crying girl immediately. 

“Where is-” She began, but was cut off as Baldur too emerged from his rooms, fixing his sword belt in place, his face guarded as his eyes landed on Frigga and her charge.

“I do not know.” Was the only answer Thor could give.

“Thor!” The king’s barked summons echoed from round the corner and the crown prince turned sharply.

“I must go.”

Pausing only a moment to lay a grateful hand on his mother’s shoulder, Baldur joined his brother, their boots an even tamp as they marched towards the throne room. 

“You do not know where-”

“No.” Thor snapped to his younger brother. “He was missing when I woke.”

Baldur’s face grew clouded. “Do you know who comes for him?”

“They might not come for him at all.” Not that Thor would dare to believe it. “It may be a friend.” But he believed this even less. 

Ahead of them, at the entrance to the throne room, two guards saluted. Their muscles were stiff and eyes bloodshot and Thor had to hold himself in check to keep from swearing. He did not let himself glare as they opened the doors wide, had only enough composure to he keep his head high as he and his brother exited the shaded hall and emerged into the towering light of the massive chamber.

Only to draw up short at the sight which greeted them.

Thor’s mouth dried up. He flattened his palms to his thighs to still their nervous clutching.

The towering doors which opened to the front steps were held wide, early morning sun pouring in around a group of giant creatures. The shortest among them no less than three meters, each one was shaped like a lump of a mountain, bearing in silhouette only a novel resemblance to a man. 

They progressed in, measured and deliberate, and their features became known as they lost the sun to their backs and gained the glow of the central hearth. The features of the ocean. Features of the mere. Features of the king.

Laufey. 

The central figure, he was all limbs. Just a writhing red pile of them lined in pairs up his spine, leaving him to look far too unbalanced for land but remaining steady on two conjured legs. Beyond superficial bipedality he gave no quarter to the guise of humanity. His colouring was of blood and water, ice and fire, hands red like summer wine and face as blue as evening. No human feet could change him, his was the visage of a thing entirely unfit for land. Aloof, disdainful, he carried himself like a noble who deigned to visit his tenant's farm, and there was a stench which offended him. 

Every inch of him was proud, powerful, more so than Thor had imagined in the wake of Loki’s few, spare references to the king. To Thor, it seemed as if the ocean itself had taken animal form and walked the halls of men to make himself known; to make mere mortals tremble in awe of a force they could not reckon with. It was condescending. It was terrifying.

It made Thor’s blood boil

Though the merking’s eyes were the same bleeding hue as Loki’s they held none of the irritated affection to which Thor was so devoted. Laufey’s eyes were all ice and old scars, tough, ill-tempered, and un-yielding. Thor found his hands folding into fists, itching to put his palms to either side of the king’s skull and press until there was nothing left.

The rise of his anger was stopped only when The King of Asgard began to speak, his father choosing his most authoritative voice to address the Lord of the Seas. Thor held his fury in check. 

“Laufey, King of the Mere, in what spirit to you enter this kingdom?”

The Merking did not halt his approach, skulking right up to the foot of the dais, his many appendages rippling, folding over each other as he regarded Odin icily. His accompaniment settled in around him, one wiry switch of a creature holding an orb in his hand, lips moving silently over some spell.

Laufey’s impressive height brought him very nearly to eye level with the All Father even with both feet on the lowest level. Thor shifted his weight to a wider stance, as did his father.

Laufey scowled. “I hope not in one of war, but certain facts remain to be seen Odin, King of Asgard.” 

Odin’s advisors had begun drifting into the room, all in various states of courtly dress. Thor did not turn when he heard the door open behind him, did not regard Hogun and Sif as they drew up next to him and Baldur, though his hand relaxed its tension.

“What facts are these?” Odin’s boot heel sounded loudly against the marble floor as he took a step forwards, standing at the very edge of the top step, hands on his belt, one resting over the pommel of his sword. “We have had no quarrel for decades now, and my ships bring no report of conflict with your men.” 

Laufey did not reply.

Odin let the pause drag before he pressed. “Seek you news of the one called Fimafeng?”

Laufey’s scowl sharpened. “What know you of him?”

It felt as if spiders began to crawl up Thor’s spine, an ache forming in his teeth from where he clenched them too hard. 

“Next to nothing.” Odin’s head tilted slightly in regard. “I know only that he was found by a fisherman washed up on our shores some months past. He was buried amongst the unknown dead.”

“Buried!” Laufey spat, blue lips parting in disgust. “He will be returned to us.”

“It can be arranged. Though it may do you well to wait. I doubt his remains are in any state to be handled.”

“Barbaric.” Laufey crossed his arms over his chest. “You have done dishonour to a good man, a trusted servant to his house.”

“There was no dishonour meant.” The king placated. “We afforded him every consideration we would one of our own dead. That we knew not your burial practices was beyond our control.”

Odin’s fingers drummed against his belt. “If you have come, in person, to make war over this matter, you surprise me greatly.”

There was a commotion then as Volstagg appeared in the light of the entryway, a line of spearman following him. Laufey turned to regard the man’s entrance with disdain, watching the soldiers station themselves around the room, following their progress even out of the corner of his eye as he turned back to Odin. 

“No,” he spat on the golden floor in his denial. “Spear Breaker, I come not for Fimafeng. Let the treatment of his remains be merely an addition to the list of your offenses.”

Odin’s one good eye narrowed. “I am aware of no such list, Laufey, but if you believe you have grievance with me then come, we shall discuss it like civilized creatures-”

“No.” He barked, again. His guards shifted around him, their bearing intense, their fingers clutched tightly about their spears. “You will hear me, you will do as you are required, and I shall leave this wretched land of yours the moment I have gotten what I’ve come for.”

“What _have_ you come for?”

“Know you well, Odin,” Laufey’s words diminished into a hiss. He took half a step forward and planted a bare foot on the bottom stair, ignoring the rattle of motion as the king’s guard shifted forward from their positions at the sides of the throne. “That I come for my treacherous spawn of an offspring. 

“I was generous, I gave him months to himself, to bear his spawn and brood in solitude, and when I grew _concerned_ over the amount of time he had spent away, I had the misfortune to find that he was not brooding as I’d hoped, but instead had had the audacity to prostitute himself into the bed of _your_ heir, Spear Breaker, selling secrets that he had no right to share.”

The entire hall grew still. A skua shrieked just outside the open doors, taking wing on an up draft, chased by the roar of an enormous wave, crashing against the shore.

Hogun’s hand brushed Thor’s shoulder. 

There hardly seemed enough air to breathe. Odin closed his eye, just a fraction longer than it took to blink, and Thor felt his heart sink. There was absolute solemnity in his gaze when he opened them, and for a second he turned his sight to his son before all his attention settled back on his fellow king. 

“There is a man,” Odin began slowly, addressing the silence of all those around him. “to whom my son has taken a liking to. This is true enough. That this man is your son is a fact I can neither confirm nor deny. 

“Why believe you that this man is your son?” He gave no pause for Laufey to answer. “Have you any proof of his defection? If you have heard stories of your blue skinned kin roaming my halls I would like to hear them myself, for I can assure you I had not seen a single one of your kind in neigh a decade before you turned up here this morn. 

“And if I had seen such a man I can assure you I would have immediately returned him to the sea. Particularly if that man had been engaged in any sort of treachery. I know the words of our treaties as well as you, King Laufey, and I know that to harbor a traitor would undo all the work that was done in blood and battle all those years ago.” 

Thor exhaled.

“So what have your spies told you, ocean king?” Odin asked slowly. “How have you come to believe them so implicitly?”

Laufey’s scowl seared itself deeper onto his face. His eyes were nothing short of burning as he ground out “That there has been a two legged, pale skinned wisp roaming these halls calling himself Loki is an undeniable fact. Do not try to fool me, I will not stand for it.”

Odin nodded shortly. “Peace, King Laufey, I mean no ill. You know well that Loki is a name common between our two cultures, and that there is a Loki in this court should hardly convince you of such an elaborate plot as the one you have outlined. What’s more the man you speak of is as human as any other citizen of this kingdom, and unless your peoples have perfected some extraordinary magics I cannot fathom how your son would maintain such an elaborate disguise so effortlessly for so long.” He nearly laughed as he gestured at the enchanter still muttering next to the Merking. “Turn you to your own wizard: see how he must invoke his runes constantly to keep yourself and your entourage in appropriate form for this conversation.”

Still the wave of Laufey’s determination would not break. “Know you well,” he growled “That Loki is a sorcerer of the highest order. Know you well that he has taken on the skin of your kind, and given such a skin also to his child.”

“Now there is a child!” Odin exclaimed, letting humour touch his tone. “Really Laufey, your story is becoming too much to even follow.”

“Do not mock me, Land Walker!” The Merking roared, a hand shooting up to show off the filed points of his nails, the red of his fingers. “It is you who are telling the tales, and I grow tired of the way you squirm around the truth. Return Loki and child to me at once, as per our treaties.”

“As I have said, I cannot believe that the Loki of this court is your son, it seems preposterous-”

“Then how know you of Fimafeng? Or is that a name common amongst our cultures as well? A name that you happened to guess by chance? Go on, tell me as such All Father, it will be as believable as your other lies.”

“The babe,” Laufey snarled, turning to his advisor at his left elbow. “Tell me again the colour of its eyes”

“They are gold, your highness.” 

“ENOUGH OF THIS ODIN!” His roar crashed around the room, filling it with his fury, his gaze snapping back to the king. “Not just a traitor then, but a murderer! A kinslayer! Loki and his spawn shall burn for this and you have no right to stop me. To do so would be war.”

Odin’s guards took another step forward, hands to their swords. Laufey’s front guard lowered the points of their spears. Tension stretched between the soldiers and court members who had been slowly filtering into the wings of the hall over the course of the confrontation.

The king kept his silence a second too long, and Laufey’s lips parted to bear sharp black teeth in a smile full of triumph. 

Thor stepped forward.

“We do not seek to stop you.” Hogun’s hand fell from Thor’s shoulder as the prince oved, Thor’s hand resting on the head of Mjolner. A gust of wind swept through the throne room, sending Asgard’s banners to snapping and Thor kept his shoulders back, his head high. “We cannot, however, aid you. Loki is no longer within these walls, perhaps not even within this kingdom.”

“Another lie!” This from Laufey’s aid, but the merking smacked his hand to the man’s chest, his nails just digging in slightly to keep him still. His eyes narrowed on the crown prince

“Not a lie.” Thor pronounced. “A fact. Yesterday all the palace, even I, fell into heavy slumber. I did not immediately feel it to be unnatural but now... I believe Loki cast a spell on this palace last night. A powerful one. Then he made good his escape. He has been no where to be seen this morning.”

Laufey shoved his attendant back with a snarl. “And the child?” 

“Gone with her father.”

Laufey’s hand became a fist. “You are proving to be a poor choice of mate, boy.” He hissed, then gave his attention again to Odin.

“He will be found and returned to me. You have a fortnight.”

“And if he cannot be found?” Odin drawled

Laufey’s eyes glittered. His tongue stayed between his teeth, his lips sealed as he turned and walked between the parting ranks of his guard, the men falling into step behind him as they began their lumbering progression towards the doors. Just as he crossed the threshold he threw a hand up as if he cared for nothing, as if he offered not a sentence of blood but of the whether. Thor felt his blood grow cold.

“Then it will be war.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A thousand pardons for the long break between the last section and this one. While I don't have the next chapter(s?) written right now, I do have it (them) and the epilogue of this fic fully outlined. ~~Barring another bout of RL obligations, I should have this thing wrapped up by the end of January.~~
> 
> Edit 4/23: Oh hey, look at all those real life obligations. Well, I will definitely finish this and hopefully soon, its just hard to say when. Hopefully in the next month or so, keep your fingers crossed.


	3. Roil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone who is still sticking with this story is a saint and deserves presents. Also an apology for the fact that this chapter is mostly dialogue and not super satisfying. 
> 
> I think I've fallen a bit out with the fandom for no other reason than I got super obsessed with it and then stopped caring as much, but I do want to finish this. Guilt at least should drive me to complete it. I've hammered down how it will end so at least my outline is firm. 
> 
> Anyways props to AngelsandDragons for being like 'what the hell, you haven't updated it two years.' Thanks for kicking my ass into gear. Hopefully I'll have another chapter up within the week.

“It will be war” Thor muttered, voice dull as he held Gudrun carefully in his arms. He sat slumped on a couch in his mother’s sitting room, defeated. The day had drawn on and on, a long a tired thing that had found Thor weary and dejected at her door in the evening. “Loki has fled and left Gudrun behind to reap the seeds of tumult he has sown.”

The queen stroked the little girl’s head. She sat half on her hip, facing her son in all his dejection, her face plain in its sadness. “I do not believe him to be so callous as that Thor, he would not abandon his daughter to death.”

“I thought so too, mother, but look at us now!” Thor picked his head up to gaze at her, eyes bright in distress. “Laufey will skin this child if he has his way and spread her bones across the shore. I would not be half as mad if that thrice-damned mer had seen fit to take his child with him and spare her this danger! But no, he has fled alone. And now I do not trust to move her from the palace, even to send her away to safer lands.”

Frigga shifted off the couch and onto her knees, covering her son’s hands with her own, leaning in close.

“I believe he must have a plan, son.” Her voice soothed, just loud enough to be heard over the hissing fire. “He would not leave her here to an uncertain fate. Loki may be inscrutable in many things but his devotion to Gudrun is transparent. If he had meant to run away for good, he would have brought the child with him, taken her to some far kingdom where they would be safe. You must take his decision to leave Gudrun as a sign that he has not abandoned you to this war. You must take it as a sign of his trust, Thor. He has trusted you with the life of his daughter, placed her safety in your hands until these events draw to a close. Do you understand?”

Thor swallowed. “I do not know if I will ever trust him again, mother.”

“I know, child.” She raised her hand to cup his cheek. “But for now you must be strong. We will weather this storm and protect this babe until Loki has returned to answer our questions. For now you must do what you can to cast aside your doubt, and trust that he has some plan to return, whatever it may be.”

She chaffed at his cheekbone with her thumb, a soft smile spreading across her face. “Your father has confounded me many times with his ambitions, made me furious when he does not tell me his plans until after they have come to fruition. Yet still I love him, and I trust him with the fate of this kingdom.”

“Does he ever disappoint you?”

“Constantly.”

Thor choked on a laugh and Frigga smiled more fully. “But that is love Thor. It is as full of disappointment as it is joy. It will never be easy.”

“I understand.” The crown prince rasped, turning his face into his mother’s hand to kiss her palm. 

“You’re beginning to.” She corrected softly. “It is a hard lesson to learn my love.”

For several minutes they remained in silence, Gudrun drowsing on, heedless of the fear that surrounded her. The fire cracked loudly and Thor turned to regard it. 

Frigga tucked an errant strand of hair behind her son’s ear before taking Thor’s hands in her own once more. 

“Why would he not tell me mother, that he was _Laufey’s_ son?” He rasped at length, having to swallow twice before his throat was wet enough to speak. “Nothing else has ever made a difference to me. I already knew his father was someone of importance, someone terrible. Why could he not tell me all of the truth?”

“I don’t know.” She answered after a pause of her own. “I have grown fond of Loki in the months he has been here but I have never pretended to understand him.”

Her lips formed a small smile and she squeezed Thor’s fingers between her own. “You have fallen in love with an enigma my darling.”

Thor sighed and shut his eyes, his chin dropping to his chest.

“Go to your friends.” Frigga murmured as the minutes dragged on. “Tell them what you have told me.”

Thor barked a humorless laugh. 

“That Father makes plans for war? I imagine they have gathered that already. One did not have to sit in on his council to know that that was the direction the kingdom was headed.”

Frowning, Frigga pinched the skin between Thor’s thumb and forefinger causing his head to pop up with a yelp, his hands tugging free from his mother’s grip. “What was that for?”

“You’re sulking.” The queen accused. “I can sit with you through your grief darling but I will not let you spiral downward like this. It will do no one any good.“

Thor looked bewildered. “What else is there to do?”

With fondness Frigga reached out to pat his cheek, ignoring the look of wariness that crossed Thor’s features as he watched her fingers approach. “Plan, my love. Now is a time to plan.”

Thor’s frown deepened. “We _have_ been planning mother. Father and I have been holding council all day.”

“Yes, grand scheming things that cover many men and many maneuvers. The battle will go as well as it can with you and your father overseeing it. You must make plans for Loki now, my love. You must be prepared.”

“Prepared for what?” Thor’s eyes narrowed. Gudrun made a gurgling noise from where she lay on the couch and Thor reached out to touch her distractedly. Frigga smiled. 

“For Loki’s return.”

For a moment Thor meant to question her further, but his words died away as he thought about it. Something hardened in his eyes. 

“He has plans for this war.”

“Great plans, I am sure.” Frigga nodded.

Thor growled. “Damn him. There are easier ways to break with one’s father.”

Frigga laughed, a shade louder than she might have at another time but her mirth was genuine. “Yes I suppose there are. Though I have the distinct impression that Loki has never done things the easy way.”

“No he does not.” Thor agreed adamantly. 

With a grumble he shifted from his disheartened sprawl to bring his knees up so he could rest his arm across them, his head lolling back against the cushion of the couch. For a moment the memories of the many evenings he had spent in this room with his mother listening to tales of his ancestors were upon him. He breathed deep and held the air in his lungs, his tongue quiet behind his teeth as he remembered simpler times. 

After he had fallen from the galley and had caught a glimpse of Loki the stories had taken a different turn. All he had wanted to hear were tales of the people who lived in the sea. Father had been pleased; war stories were good for a growing boy. Mother had had a more private smile and she had indulged him to the best of her ability, her tales ranging from the heroic deeds of the Asgardian sailors and soldiers to the bits and pieces of Mere fables and legends which had made their way to the surface one way or the other when relations hadn’t been so strained. 

Their stories had always been dark. Stories of hauntings and monsters the likes of which Thor had heard from no other corner of the continent.

When he was young they had held Thor riveted. Sometimes they gave him nightmares, sometimes, to his embarrassment, his mother had had to stop because he had become to fearful to continue. 

But they had always been stories. Just stories. 

Thor swallowed and shut his eyes. “Loki has suffered greatly.”

The Queen said nothing, but Thor heard her shift and return to her seat on the couch. 

“Jotunheim is a dark place, isn’t it? I have heard the tales, and Loki has mentioned bits and pieces here and there. I just- I do not think I truly believed it could be as they say. It was too horrible.”

“It is very dark, my love, and it is difficult to eek out a life so far from the light. They do not live down there with the comforts we do here.”

Thor rubbed a hand over his face and picked up his head to return his gaze to the fire. “I knew he was angry mother but it must be... He must be furious, mustn’t he? To do what he is doing.”

Gudrun began to fuss again but Frigga reached out to pick her up, shushing her quietly as she settled the babe in her lap. She held Loki’s daughter in silence for a long moment before she gathered herself enough to reply. “There is a rage inside Loki that is terrifying to me, Thor. I saw it the first time you took me to see him when you had just brought him in to the palace. Things have happened in his life... things have been _done_ to him which would make me ill to witness. The way of the Jotun is violent and unforgiving and Loki is small and does not make allies easily.” Frigga paused to take Gudrun’s hand, rubbing the little girl’s palm gently beneath her thumb. 

“That Loki even survived long enough to join us here is astounding Thor, you must realize this. And it speaks of a strength in him which would put any man to shame.

“I let him stay despite his anger because I hoped that he would have strength enough to over come it. That with your love, the safety of this palace, one such as himself could find a place to be calm.

“But vengeance is a living thing Thor, a parasite that latches onto the soul and will suck out all that is good and wholesome until all that is left is the fiery, acid need to dole out punishment for past wrongs. Loki’s rage runs deep, and now we are a part of it, for better or for worse.”

Thor’s head had turned towards his mother as she spoke, his eyes growing wider as she continued. “You knew.” He managed to rasp out and she tilted her head towards him slightly. 

“I guessed.”

Thor frowned and clasped his hands together over his knees. “Did father know?”

“He had as much of an inkling as I.”

“Then why ever did he let him stay?”

A small smile cracked over Frigga’s face. “For one thing there is no saying no to you, Thor, when you have righteousness on your side. For another, Loki needed our protection. He was a refugee, love, as much as he was your friend. The level of violence dealt him was intolerable to this kingdom, and his place here was in asylum.”

“Will you let him stay again?” There was an ache in Thor’s chest, a split between anger and grief. He held his breath as he waited for his mother’s answer. 

“I don’t know darling. He has done the kingdom a great wrong.”

With a growl Thor turned his face back towards the fire. “Damn him. Why could he not speak truth with us?”

Frigga’s gaze turned indulgent. “Oh, Perhaps he believed we would discern his plans and put a halt to things. Perhaps he still holds some reluctant favor for Laufey. Perhaps it is simple pride.”

“Pride.” Thor barked a humorless laugh. “Men are to die for his pride, then?”

“Men have died for pride before. It is not a noble thing but it is not uncommon. Loki would not be the first to sacrifice the lives of those beneath him for the sake of his own vendetta.”

“Do you truly believe him capable of such callousness?”

Frigga kissed the hair of the child in her lap before sighing and meeting Thor’s gauze squarely. “Once again I can only say I do not know. We will not know anything for certain until he returns to us.” 

“And he will return.” He had meant for it to be a statement of conviction but the sound that emerged from his throat was thin and without surety.

“Oh yes Thor. We can be sure of that.”

 

\---

A fortnight passes on and the day of Laufey’s return dawns, the sun wan and muffled by fog. 

There is no rush to the throne room as there had been before, no haphazard preparation. The night before the encounter the whole kingdom seems to linger awake, waiting for the morn. 

Thor’s body is still, standing next to his father. There is only one outcome to this meeting, and all know it. 

Loki has not been found, if there was any real effort put into looking for him at all. Instead there have been councils of war for days, the navy has been mustered, and the treasury has been consolidated in preparation for the impending cessation of all sea-trade. 

The city is hunkering down and preparing for a storm. 

Break walls have been built up, fishing boats have been dry-docked. Any who are able have moved inland away from the sea, towards the mountains where they may find safer escape to friendlier nation states. 

They have not been enough time to bring in all their troops, but Aflheim has promised a dozen ships within the next month. It will have to do.

People try not to talk about the fact that even though thirty years have passed since the last war, the navy has not yet been fully rebuilt. People do not count the ships clustering in Asgard’s main bay, though the eldest among them know just how many fewer they are approaching this conflict with than the last time. 

It is far too soon for another war, but in a way, the last one never really ended. 

Laufey still reigns, his judgement still quick and terrible on any who lost their way in his seas. 

Their temporary peace had been hard won and untenable. 

So it is war. 

So be it. 

Laufey does not come in person to the second meeting. He is no fool. When the messenger comes he is a sick and shriveled thing accompanied by only one guard and a warlock to hold their forms. 

Odin makes a pretty speech, declaring Loki a refugee and a protected guest of Asgard. He does not beg for mercy, only declares that his intentions all along had never been to ruin Laufey or glean secrets in return for the youngest prince’s sanctuary. The messenger says nothing in return, not that a reply had been expected. So Odin turns them away empty handed, and he lets them live. The whole court watches in gilded silence as the to mere turn and loom out of the main hall. 

Then they wait. 

Asgard does not have the power to take this battle to Laufey. It will be now as it always has been: Laufey must be the one to begin the fight. 

They do not have to wait long. 

At midnight three days hence, the new moon is dark and the air is still. In the silent anticipation of night, the ocean begins to writhe.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for sticking with it if you've been here from the start, and if you're just coming in, thanks for giving it a try.


End file.
